


Runaways

by Alvrexadpot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle wounds, Fluff and Angst, Mentions of other Star Wars characters, NON GENDERED READER, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:58:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvrexadpot/pseuds/Alvrexadpot
Summary: General Grievous has been gone for nearly a month to destroy Jedi forces, you begin to fear the worst.





	1. Chapter 1

It was horribly quiet.

You were plagued with nightmares recently that you swore were visions. Yet Grievous insisted you were overreacting.

Since the day turned to night, he still hadn’t arrived at the base ship you both chose to hide away from in case the Jedi forces became too much. You were starting to worry, more so than you usually did for him. Your eyes were fixed on the communications receiver at your bedside that lay silent for these past few weeks.

You asked him a month ago to leave the Sith forces and escape the galaxy with you. The Jedi were corrupt but strong, you knew that very well. But he had a particular hate for them you’d never seen in your life. That hatred consumed all of him sometimes, and you admired it to an extent. You also feared it to be his ultimate downfall, and you feared tonight was the night it finally won.

A console that was installed in your personal quarters beeped warning that someone had docked with your ship. You felt it to be him, but you knew better than to expect it.

Arising from your bed with sheets strewn nearly to the floor, you grabbed the blaster that never strayed too far from you and departed your room. Your ship wasn’t incredibly large, but it was big enough to live comfortably with it being just the two of you. The corridor you stepped carefully through stretched down to the docking station.

You knew if it was enemy forces you’d very likely be hopelessly outnumbered. He had insisted on training so that in the event something terrible happened, you could fight your way to safety. But the forces that be were hard for him to defeat, but damn near impossible for you.

There was a wheezing cough from down the corridor. You’d never heard anything like that come from him, but you knew it was him. Your cautious steps turned into a sprint as you cleared the distance between you and the docking station.

You saw him standing there, his cape still dawned but looking worn thin from battle. He was hunched over, and despite his emotionless face, you knew something was wrong.

You approached him without caution, your hands reaching high to touch the cool metal of his face. His eyes moved down to yours, he didn’t often sleep, maybe once a month; but he looked so weary.

You could hear him wheeze through his metal respiratory that rattled his entire frame. He was hurt in a way you’d never seen him before. In fact, you’d never seen him damaged at all.

One of your hands left his face and went to pull away his cape, but his large hand clutched tight to the fabric, obscuring your view. It must have been bad for him to try to hide it from you; he wasn’t one to skirt around things.

You gave him a look, “General..” You said in such a gentle but firm tone. You preferred that pet name for him, despite there being no form of rank between the two of you.

He remained silent besides the sound of his weathered breathing. He was firm in his stance, he wouldn’t show his weakness to you. But you were insistent, and as you pulled again at the fabric between you, he allowed it to fall away.

His chest was askew. The metal plates defending the few organs he had left were cracked, exposed, falling away. It was something grabbed him in it’s giant and squeezed. His lungs and heart, in terrifying clear view, beat still, but struggled.

You felt hurt for him; part of you wanted to cry. You’d never seen his so broken; it was a wonder how he was still standing. You take his clawed hand into yours. The sharp framework dug into your hand in such a familiar way. “Let’s get you inside.” You insist and he accepts.

You lead him back into the ship. Despite his war worn state, his sheer size made him still slow his movements to match yours. You lead him to his quarters, which was more function than comfort. You lead him to a station you’d built a year ago to better matinence his body. He sat on the metal plated chair in the center, looking relieved to not have to walk anymore.

You went to work on what you could. His injuries were extensive, and it would take months before you could fix everything. But you could at least stabilize him for now and try to build his chest again.

“What happened?” You finally managed to say. You felt so overwhelmed, yet pressed on.

Grievous seemed unwilling to detail his trip. Under the pain, you could sense the simmering rage he stayed quiet about. He relented however, he knew the worry was eating you up and making you feel sick, “We attempted the capture of Emperor Palpatine. Windu had crippled me while we escaped Coruscant.”

Windu was a formidable Jedi, and a thorn in both your sides for awhile. Knowing he had done this to Grievous was almost to much. The precision welding tool you held in your hands shook as anger filled you. The irrational part of you wanted so desperately to find Mace Windu and make him hurt. Your teeth pressed hard into each other and you could feel your entire body tremble.

But then his hand wrapped around your arm, and you felt your rage subside and the fog clear. You looked up at him and his gaze remained steady on you. He was at the very least safe now. You leaned up to kiss his face plate, feeling the cool metal at your lips press ever so slightly into your touch. You pulled away and returned to your work, welding the cracks in his chest back together with an accuracy most people could never attempt.

“You know Sidious and Dooku don’t care at all for your well being.”

 

He knew; everyone knew. And it frustrated you to no end to see Grievous continue his campaign. You knew better than most his desire for honor and glory was unprecedented. Sometimes you wished you would be enough for him. But he had goals that stretched across the known universe. And even if the two of you left behind the wars being waged in this galaxy, there was always something else he was capable and deserving of ruling.

Seeing as he didn’t seem willing to entertain your last statement, you continued on with a sigh. “You said ‘attempted’.”

Grievous nodded, “We took him off planet. Kenobi and his protégé intercepted our ship and captured him and disposed of Lord Dooku.”

“Disposed of?”

“Killed.” He clarified.

This wasn’t good. There was no upper hand to be had, and despite your contempt for Dooku, his death was not a good sign. You couldn’t imagine what Sidious was planning, but you knew it didn’t spell well for Grievous. You wished he wasn’t so headstrong to not know too.

“What’s there to do now?” You asked. He didn’t answer that and you stopped the task at hand. “No.” You said firmly, not needing to hear it from him to know he was being sent on another suicide mission.

“We can’t stop now.” He said plainly.

“Grievous, you’re not going anywhere.” You put your foot down. You could tolerate a lot, but the state of him now made you sick. He wasn’t going to leave your site until he was better, Siths be and his own iron will be damned.

He wasn’t usually one to argue, least of all you. He tried reaching out to you again, but you stood and back away. “They’re going to kill you. Palpatine is driving you into the ground.”

“No one can kill me.” His voice raised, forcing him deep into a coughing fit. You watch his lungs quake.

“Kenobi can and will.” It was a card you didn’t want to pull, but you couldn’t have him leave.

“Kenobi will die by my hand!” He shouted between his coughing. He stood straight up only to crumple again. You jumped to action before he hit the ground. Using every bit of strength you had to keep him upright before sitting him back on the chair.

It took him time to right himself again, you stood by him, stroking his shoulder plate. He couldn’t feel it, of course, but he knew you were nearby. When his breathing calmed again and the coughing stopped, you spoke again, “I can’t lose you.” Was all you could manage to say, feeling in that moment useless as the future ahead was grim.

“You won’t.” He clarified, his eyes cast down. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but maybe he was thinking of you.

You look at the work you had done so far on his chest, it wasn’t nearly enough. However he wasn’t going to get worse, and you could let him rest now. He deserved it.

“You can’t go.” You mumbled, feeling as tired as him.

 

You let him touch you this time, pushing an annoying pierce of hair from your eyes. Despite him being so large, he managed to still be gentle. You leaned into his cool tough, the dirt from his palm melded to your cheek but you didn’t mind.

His forehead nudged yours and you felt your anxieties melt away. It was good to have him here, he was safe for now. The nagging feelings of the future weren’t important just now when you felt him move you closer.

His affections were rarely through words, and they were a treat for you when he vocalized. But you still loved his physical gestures. Soft touches despite his hard exteriors. A small gift you find that he never mentions. Watching you doing anything with such great interest.

“I won’t go.” He finally said, cutting the comfortable silence.

“What?” You ask, unsure if you heard him right.

“You’re right, we’re fighting a losing battle. Lord Sidious is hiding something. I don’t trust it.” He admitted and you knew it was hard for him. He was too bull headed and you rarely found a time he changed his mind.

“So we’re leaving?” You couldn’t stop the excitement in your voice, for months it felt like their time together would be short. But now, maybe, there was a forever.

“We will need to do this carefully. Sith and Jedi forces are everywhere. We’ll stop at Utapau, take what resources we can, leave from there.” You were surprised to realize he’d thought through this before and it made your heart swell.

You wrapped your arms around the collar surrounding his neck, careful not to damage him anymore. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder, a fang from his faceplate pressing against your neck.

You felt like cheering, felt like screaming. The excitement was overwhelming even though he remained calm and steady, his body leaning more and more into yours. You swore sometimes he could really feel you.

You kissed his mask again, longer and tender while a hand skirted your back. A long finger trailed down to the small of your back and you shivered, and felt so happy that you had years to feel that again.

You finally uncurled yourself from him, but slipped your hand into his palm, “Come to bed, you look exhausted.”


	2. Chapter 2

Grievous had slept for two days. He was a sound sleeper, but since his encounter with Windu; you could hear him from even outside your quarters.

You counted his laboured breaths while you lay beside him. His sheer size nearly took over the entire bed, aside from a small section nearing the edge. You didn’t mind though; he was home and it gave you an opportunity to see him again.

Your hand draped onto his chest, feeling the still smooth metal. As you neared closer to his exposed cavity. You felt cracks and divots in an exterior you thought impenetrable. It made your heart hurt, but you couldn’t stop the idle exploration.

You were almost always by his side. You felt scared something would happen. If his breathing stopped or hitched for even a second, you felt your anxiety spike.

It gave you time to think about what he said. That he was done fighting for the Sith and you could leave this rotten galaxy behind. It would take a long time to find the home the two of you deserved, but you had the time now.

He finally woke. He rose from your bed and shifted it nearly off its frame in the process, looking around quickly. For a moment he seemed unsure of where he was. And you found yourself sitting up as well, reaching over and holding fast to his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re home” You reassured, crawling across the bed and into his eyeshot.

His eyes were wide, glimmering gold with something you could only imagine to be panic. You feared the place he thought he was in. Soon though, his eyes focused. His hands reached you, cupping your face. You felt his hands tremble, and you held them with yours to steady him.

“Did you have a nightmare?” You asked, a gentle note to your voice. 

He only sighed, his head going to lay on your shoulder. You didn’t pry further, you knew he was tired still. You only hoped with this leave, he’d find his peace of mind again.

You leaned your head against his, allowing yourself to relax for a moment. You felt for the familiar angles of his body. Your soft skin still malleable to his strong frame.

His eyes closed, reveling in the nearness of you. You wished so much in that moment he could feel you, really physically feel you. Words were never enough to show how much you loved him, yet you feel he still knew.

Finally, achingly, you pulled away. His eyes bore into yours and you admired his face. Deep cuts of past battles, small scuffs you’d take the pleasure in buffing out. Dirt marred his face; he was never one for vanity.

You knew he hadn’t been cleaned in ages now, and you now noticed the grime left on your sheets. Dark brown and black streaks, and you could see the soft pink tinges, like flower petals, of the remnant blood of enemies long since dead.  
You drew circles into his unyielding palm, he watched you carefully as you did so, “We should get you bathed.”

It was a notion he didn’t think of. Yet he accepted anyways. You lead him back to his room, leaving him at the chair you repaired him at.

You left for only a moment, returning back with a jug full of water and a few towels. You kneeled down and began working from bottom to top.

It was tough worked, and by the time you reached his arms, you felt your fingers going raw. He caught your hands forced you to stop.

Angry red skin lay on your palm. He tapped a talon onto your hand, “You’re hurting yourself.” He remarked.

You shook your head and reached back for the towel laying between you. “I’m okay.” You insisted before he moved the towel away from you. “You’ll look ridiculous if I don’t finish.”

He held onto your hand and grabbed the other, pulling you close and onto his lap. You couldn’t hide your smile. You reached up and stroked a careful thumb along the edges of his mask, catching dirt as you did.

“Please let me finish?” You asked again, exposing your stained thumb pad to him.

He merely shook his head and wrapped you up closer to him. You pressed your cheek firm against his chest, hearing for the wounded heartbeat you still liked hearing so much.

You didn’t know how long you would still have moments like this with him, but you took it upon yourself not to fret for now.

He seemed so at peace finally, nothing of the galaxy around the two of you seemed to matter. His eyes, usually so hard and focused, grew hazy and calm. He was lost in thought again, something he did often. This time you felt it was dreams of your future in peace, finally.

He pressed his face to a top of your head in his version of a kiss. You felt your cheeks grow warm. Before you could melt to him any further, you removed yourself from his embrace and grabbed the towel before he could remove it again.

“Just a little longer.” You promised, planting another gentle kiss on his worn face.

He allowed you to continue this time without objection. And you happily took the time to make sure he was pristine. When you finally finished with the last smudge just at his fang, you disposed of the towels for cleaning. You returned to your room to pull the sheets as well.

You thought of your old life, one of a droid mechanic. Your talents had been wasted there, and Grievous thought the same. Now, you typically repaired him exclusively. When he wasn’t home, you spent most your days upgrading the ship. If you couldn’t defend yourself against the Jedi enemy, perhaps your ship could do it for you.

You did often feel restless at the ship. You hadn’t seen much of anyone but Qymaen for months now. In the few trips you made to nearby planets to stock up, you took enjoyment in being around people again. Not than you didn’t savor your short times with him, but space was lonely.

When you left this galaxy you could imagine life being easier. No more hiding, no more lonely nights in the endless void of space.

When you finished cleaning you went to look for Qymaen. He of course wasn’t far, still residing in his room. His room was dark aside from the blue glow of his computer system. It looked like reports from other planets, you couldn’t detect the language, but you knew it was likely from his Sith masters.

You walked up behind him quietly, even though you knew he could hear you. You gripped his upper arm with your hand in a small gesture of affection. He turned to you, the blue light reflected off of him and onto your own skin.

“What are you looking at?” You asked, gently sliding your hand into his.

“Lord Sidious has sent plans for our next campaign. I am due to return my duties in a few days.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, you suddenly felt untrusting, “Why should that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t.” Was all he said. But you felt anxious again.

He promised his campaign to be done, but you know the decision weighed on him. He talked of his life as a child; war had built him into the Kaleesh he was today. To leave it all was something that couldn’t have been easy for him.

He could see it bothered you and he pulled you against him. You sighed and pressed your cheek hard against his chest. No matter how much washing you did of him, he always smelled of fire.

“We will be leaving for Utapau tomorrow, we need to start preparations.” He began, bumping respirator to the top of your head.

You agreed, looking up at him one more time and tracing the line of his perfectly sharp fang. You left his embrace, feeling just a little emptier. You made your way to the cockpit, installing coordinates to tomorrow’s expedition.

You felt hope for the future, though nerves still ate at you about what was to come. Renouncing the Sith was no easy task. Leaving this galaxy would need to be handled with the utmost care if they were going to survive.

But you were confident in Grievous’ planning, he was nothing if not efficient. You merely hoped it was enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This go wrong at Utapau

Utapau was an ugly planet, you always felt that. But now it felt like sanctuary. In this wretched place, you had parked Grievous’ ship in the port overlooking his forces. He had advised Sidious he would be building defenses there; as he recuperated from Mace Windu’s attack.

In reality, he was playing a game, gambling even. His only goal was to retrieve fuel, collect food for you and any last weaponry he could steal in the meantime. Then you’d pilot everything back to your home ship and get out of this place as fast as you could.

You onlu had to wait until the time had come and pilot them out. No one knew you were there, no one even known you we’re alive. You were thought of as dead as so many did in battles gone past.

It was for the best to remain anonymous. If people had known of your affiliation for the Supreme Commander, it could cause fatal problems. So you watched from your platform to the army down below.

Grievous was due to return to you by sunset, in which you’d be making your hasty escape. You hadn’t slept the night before, too keyed up planning how exactly to survive all this. Grievous tried reassuring you, as he often did these days, that he’d planned this for longer than he’d let on. Yet things had ways of still getting past him, his still crushed lungs proved such.

A ship flew from above your head, close enough where you hair blew in every way possible. You muttered something rude, looking up into the cockpit to see who the offender was.

He moved too fast to detect who was on board, but it was clear he would be landing. You followed the ship’s movements until it landed and a platform a few stories below. 

The cockpit opened, you felt your blood run cold. Obi-Wan hopped out, greeting the natives who stood outside his ship.

Grievous hadn’t mentioned Kenobi being anywhere near them. And you had a horrible feeling this would be a surprise to both of you. You had to do something.

You took action, running back into your ship and retrieving your blaster and a cloak to obscure yourself. If anyone saw you, it’d only cause more problems. You threw the hood over your shoulders and began running.

Maybe it was a fluke, Kenobi had ended up here merely by coincidence and had no clue of the operations. You doubted it the moment you thought of it.

You ran down platforms and stairs, hoping no one would stop you. But it was so far down and you already felt your legs beginning to scream their protest. You couldn’t stop; you had to let Qymaen know. In his weakened state, things proved difficult. A Jedi could be disastrous.

You were so nearly there when you heard screaming. Citizens of this rock ridden city started running fast. From what? You could guess. But you had to be sure. You ran back out onto one of the platform. Bolting almost off the side to see where you knew your General was.

Kenobi was already there; he was too quick. He cursed and started running towards the fray. You had no clue what you were to do, it’s not like you could ever go toe to toe with a Jedi and live. But you threw caution in the wind.

You made it to the platform, only to discover it was nothing but droids. They must have fallen, you thought. And even if there was no breath left in you, you kept running. 

You could hear through the caverns sounds of struggle, but no way of knowing who had the upper hand. You could hardly think still, your only instinct telling you to run.

You made it to the platform, finding Grievous stood over Kenobi who was barely dangling on the very edge of the platform. Grievous approached his fallen enemy holding tight to an electrostaff.

Kenobi glanced to his side, both your eyes locked onto a blaster lying on the ground. But he was obviously quicker, he threw his hand out, bringing the blaster to him in less than a second.

Grievous closed in, weapon in hand and poised to strike. But once again, Obi Wan in quicker. He fired straight into Qymaen’s exposed chest. You felt yourself scream, but the blood in your ears stopped all signs of hearing.

All thought, rational or otherwise, left your body. You moved forward, blaster still held tight in hand. You fired, still screaming as you did. You missed, you missed by a long shot. But you kept firing. Obi Wan’s attention was on you, hand raised again. You were knocked back violently. Clear across the platform with your back shoved hard against the rock wall.

Kenobi struggled to stay up, and this was the fight he lost. He slipped, to where didn’t matter to you. There was only one word screaming in your head.

Run.

So you did, you ran to Grievous, his body keeled over. Your hands scrambled over his form, but you were unable to really feel anything. You were still screaming, begging him to get up. But he didn’t seem all there, in shock.

“Please!” You begged, gripping tight to his shoulder with shaking hands, trying to get him up. “Please, we have to go!”

You looked down at him, his claws -what was left of them- holding over his chest, his heart trying to leak out onto the floor. It beat on his hands, you would feel sick if you could feel anything at all.

He wouldn’t make the trip back up to the ship, not in his condition, you had to think fast. You grabbed one of his hands, forcing your blaster into it, in case anything else happened. You kissed the top of his head hard, bruising yourself from just that last moment of contact.

You began running again, you had to bring the ship to him. You moved to slowly, you felt yourself stumble, you wondered if you’d hit your head. You couldn’t stop though, blood running to hot in your veins.

It seemed like forever, but the ship came into site. You spared no time, running straight into the cockpit and firing the engine. It took everything in you to pilot straight, the fear and adrenaline ripping through your body.

Your eyes searched desperately for both Grievous and Obi Wan. If they were together you knew it would spell the end for Qymaen. But he was alone, still kneeled over. You landed onto the port, feeling the entire ship shake from the abrupt stop.

You ran back out of the ship, taking no time to reach him. You gripped tight to his arm, “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

He still seemed to be in a state of shock. Unable to process what you were saying to him. The only thing that got him on his feet was your incessant pulling. You all but dragged him back to the ship.

The ship wasn’t very big, you couldn’t even find a place to let Grievous lay down. Your blaster had been left behind, he held his organs together with both his hands, it was all he could do.

You wanted so badly to help, but there was nothing you could do but fly the ship. And you did, rocketing out of the port with a speed that was barely safe.

But then you watched the sky fall.

Enemy ships approached in droves. Cascading down into the fray of droids ready for battle. There was no way you would be able to stock up, you had to leave before anyone intercepted your ship.

“Love..” Was all Qymaen could say. You whipped your head to him for a moment. His eyes lay half closed, struggling to stay awake.

You couldn’t breath, reaching out to him with one hand to hold him together, “It’s okay, General. Just a little longer.” Your promised, though you felt so scared.

Somehow, but some active miracle, no one intercepted you. But Grievous was getting worse by the second, you felt him slump, his still beating heart falling into your hand. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t, not when your home ship was so near.

You finally reached the ship, syncing the ships together and immediately going for Grievous. You shook him hard, begging him to wake back up, all with your hand plunged deep into his chest to keep him together. There would be no way for you to carry him, he was just far to massive.

You never did this before, but you asked whatever higher being that cared to listen for help. You screamed at him, shaking him up your hands split open from the sharp edges of his frame.

Something rose in him and his body rose from his seat. It was slow, and you used every bit of strength in you to hold him up. “That’s it, Qymaen. We just need to get into the ship.”

You counted his steps for him, your hand still plunged deep into his chest cavity. Finally he stepped onto the ship, still walking so painfully slow. You continued to push him further, straight to his quarters where you forced him to lie down on a metal plate you used for major maintenance.

His breathing was hard. As if he just ran across a planet instead of walking a few meters to his room. With him lying back, gravity did the work of leaving his heart inside himself. You stroked his face, forcing him to look at you, “We’ll be okay, I need to log our coordinates and I’ll be right back. I promise.”

His eyes closed and you started running again. The cockpit was already up and running, but you had to change things. There was no way you’d be able to make it anywhere near the edge of the galaxy with the fuel you had left. You needed it to take you far enough from the looming danger.

You found a Planet not controlled by the Empire not far from you. It would have to do for now, but you would still need to be quick.

You replaced the coordinates, still keeping an eye on the space in front of you in the event anything caught wind of you.

Your destination was installed and kicked the engine into gear. In seconds you were speeding through space, Utapau became a small blip in the distance.

You couldn’t allow yourself to be hopeful. You were hopeful before and look what happened. You merely kept fighting since Grievous couldn’t do it anymore.

He’d need to be looked after soon. In what you could see, his organs were definitely damaged, but it wasn’t immediately fatal. That is, if they still stayed in his chest. You felt your own stomach twist to the idea.

A part of you felt like giving up, someone likely figured out he defected by now. Grievous was nearly beyond repair. You felt your face, pulling away your hand, you found blood. This wasn’t good.

You felt your body go loose, unable even to hold up your own head and you laid it on the dash. You just needed to close your eyes for a second, that’s it. You were slipping, black edges growing bigger and darker as you drifted off.


	4. Chapter 4

Oil stained your hands black. Your fingers pulled at wiring from a failed droid unable to keep itself up. It would be for the best to destroy this thing, but some idiot superior insisted this is where you needed to be.

Droids were cheaply made and unsophisticated. For something so archaic, they were hard to fix. Often times when you did manage to repair them, they’d be back in a week's time with another slew of problems.

You eyed your blaster and wondered if putting this droid out of its misery would allow you to leave for the day. It wouldn’t be missed, you were sure. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were frustrated and overworked with tasks that didn’t scratch the surface of your talents.

The Sith didn’t like their subordinates thinking; few governments did. You thought of a time where you were respected as a mechanic on your home planet. If only your parents could see you now. It was a blessing they were dead.

There was a commotion coming from outside your repair bay. From the entrance you watched as officers were rushing towards the landing bay of the ship. You hadn’t received any report of any official arriving.

You dropped the droid who tipped over with a loud clang. Grabbing a rag to wipe your hands and face, you left the bay and followed the officers.

The landing bay was abuzz with officers from across the ship. You watched from the platform above. You recognized the landing ship anywhere. The Soulless One; a modified starfighter that was the personal ship of The Supreme General Grievous. It was an impressive ship, one of a kind and the future of starfighters.

But you were immensely more curious of the Supreme General. You’d read reports and heard from officer’s of his extensive cybernetic enhancements. It was stuff of legend to build a fully functioning cyborg, and he was the most well made yet.

You could see him approaching some of your leading commanders, but were too far away to hear anything they had to say. You didn’t mind, war didn’t concern you. You instead found yourself admiring the technological wonder he was.

He was well designed, built tall and strong. But his shell was sleek, he was built to be fast. It was hard to find anything like that within Sith forces. Sure, their ships were impressive, but any kind of droid, battle or not, was almost garbage.

You wondered why The Supreme General would be here. He was somewhat new, although in the short time he’d been here, he’d commanded the utmost respect.

You felt out of place. You didn’t need to be there. In fact, you may not even be allowed. Your feet began moving backwards as you slipped back to your work station. You hoped no one noticed your little escapade.

The droid you tipped over still laid there. Useless. You sighed, frustrated. It wasn’t fair to be stuck in a place like this; you were so much better than some petty mechanic. Not that anyone cared.

You grabbed it again and began working. Even has you tried your best to work, you felt a boiling anger in your chest. You weren’t sure why it was coming so suddenly. Maybe it was because the Supreme General was here, and you could finally show someone your skills were worth something. But none of it mattered, you didn’t work for the Sith because it was a great career opportunity; you did it cause there wasn’t much of another option.

You cursed and threw the droid back onto the ground, breaking off a piece of its outer shell. Just then, the bay’s door slid open behind you. You cursed again, quieter this time. Before turning to stand at attempt for your superior officer.

You didn’t expect Grievous and a few others to be there.

You felt your body wind up tight and you stood taller than you ever had before. Your hands were held behind your back with your nails piercing crescent shapes into your palms. You knew your bay looked a sight, covered in oil and misplaced tools. But of course no one told you you’d be receiving this kind of company.

“Sir.” You croaked out. The lump in your throat rose higher and it was impossible to swallow it down. You’d never met someone of his rank. You’d be admiring the technical marvel of his cybernetic parts of you weren’t so absolutely terrified.

He eyed the broken droid at your feet, you worried that he might take offense to it. He was mostly robot himself, maybe he felt a kinship with it?

It didn’t seem so, he eyes moved to you. A bright gold you’d never seen before, they’d almost glow if they were any brighter. “What is it you do?”

You found the will to speak, even if it was still so hard to breath, “I’m a mechanic, sir. I’m in charge of fixing the droids… sir.” You winced, feeling like a complete idiot.

He eyed you, looking unimpressed, “Is that all your capable of.”

“No sir.” You said too quick. He watched evenly, seeming to wait for you to come up with something. You felt yourself fumble, sweating as if you were on death row. Then again, you could very well be. “I worked as a mechanic for starfighters before. I also worked cybernetics privately.”

“Cybernetics?” He questioned, incredulous.

“Y-yes sir.” Was it that hard to believe? “Mostly for organic enhancement, prosthetics. Some work like your own.”

He turned to the officers behind him, “They are just a droid mechanic?”

Any anger you felt would be placed on you turned to their superiors. You could almost breath a sigh of relief. It did feel good to see your superiors so nervous. They tried explaining themselves away; they didn’t have much of a use for you, they hadn’t heard of your past accomplishments. Any excuse they could come up with to save face.

It wasn’t good enough it seemed. He turned back to you while they babbled, “If you are as talented as you claim, I would like to speak to you in the future.”

You could only nod, your voice lost. Grievous turned back to your officers, commanding them to follow him. They did so without another word.

You never saw them again

The next few months you worked as his personal mechanic, following him everywhere he went. It was innocent at first, you were happy to have the challenge. You never worked on a droid again, instead, you made sure he was always up to speed. You did so with pride.

You stayed near him more often after a few months, though you never were able to recall when your feelings began to change. You were too mystified that he somehow reciprocated. 

But something about him was all consuming. It could have been a number of things that drew you so impossibly close to him. You became obsessed, needing to be near him at all times. When he finally took you in, confessing with no words the need he had for you; you never left.


	5. Chapter 5

You woke up.

For a moment, you weren’t sure of where you were. Your whole body hurt and sweat dripped in layers off your body. You can’t remember the last time you felt this horrible. You peeled your face off the control panel, feeling old blood in your mouth and dried onto your cheek.

Your head ached like it was split open. You must have had a concussion. You’d been too keyed up to even worry about yourself. It was a wonder you woke up at all considering the state you were in.

You looked past the control panel and into the empty space that surrounded your ship. You eyed the navigation panel to find your ship to be the only thing on the radar. The ship was safe for now.

You sat back in your chair, trying to remember why and how you were here. You remembered Utapau, you remembered Obi Wan, and a fight between him and Qymaen. Memories previously painted black and empty began to find clarity. And when you remembered Grievous and the state he was in, your heart nearly leaped through your chest.

You immediately rose from your seat, only to collapse onto the floor. Your legs were numb from disuse, and blood rushed through your body that felt painful. You couldn’t figure out how long you’d been unconscious, it must have been awhile. But your bodies protests where the least of your concerns; you had to see if he was still alive.

You forced yourself back up by your hands, climbing your chair until your legs felt less like liquid. Feelings of needles course painfully down to your feet, you found yourself voicing your pain in groans and cries you hadn’t yet heard before. You still proceeded forward and out of the cockpit in slow, agonizing steps.

Eventually your body found some semblance of strength and you began rushing back to Qymaen’s quarters. Opening the door, the entire room was dark besides a small light overlooking the spot you left him in.

He hadn’t moved from his place, eyes still closed. You stomach twisted at the sight of him. You weren’t sure how long you had been out, leaving him unattended could’ve killed him. You approached him slowly, terrified of the idea you were walking towards his corpse.

You peered over his chest, looking inside to find his heart still beating. Although it was unsteady, finding difficulty keeping him alive. You let go of the breath that was stuck tight in your throat. You had to get to work quickly if you had any hope of keeping him alive. There was some blessing from above that kept him with you this long, but you’d be a fool to think blessings alone would keep him breathing.

This would be major surgery and repair work. Despite your professional grasp on everything that made him work, this would be a task you could have never prepared for. It would be the hardest work you’d face, life or death with no in between. But you didn’t hesitate.

\--

You clocked the time as two days since you’d began. Two days of very little sleep while you worked every trick you could think of to ensure his survival. It was basic at first, essentially creating contraptions that would temporarily act as a life support. Giving you real time to improve upon his current quality of life.

The heart was the most complicated to mend, that's what took the direct hit. It had stopped at least three times since beginning your repairs, each more sudden than the last. In those times you reached into his chest and pumped it to life with your own shaking hands. 

You were tired, starving, you were on the verge of collapse for hours.

But you didn’t stop. You remade the gel that kept his organic parts together and alive, molding it back into his empty chest cavity with precision you never knew you had. When it was finally did all you could possibly do; you sat back in your chair, and inspected the work you’d completed on his body.

There wasn’t a single thing you could have done better. It was in all respects, the best work you’ve done. You’d be proud and excited if you didn’t feel so stretched thin.

Your eyes grew heavy as you watched his careful breathing. You wished he’d wake up so you could ensure he was okay. But the truth be told; you wouldn’t be sure when he’d be able to wake up, if ever.

The anxiety still swirling in your gut did not stop yourself from slipping into sleep. 

\--

You woke up somewhere warm. You were wrapped tightly into your blanket on your bed. Your room had the soft glow of yellowish light, but still dim enough not to disturb you. You didn’t recall moving to your room. If anything, you’d want to be closer to Qymaen in case anything were to happen.

You peeled yourself out of your blanket until cool air hit your skin. You scrambled out of your bed with unsteady feet, but sheer force of will kept you upright. You rushed to your door to seek him out again, only for it to open without your command.

He stood on the other side of the door; golden eyes looking down at you with concern. He stood tall, looming over you and you felt your body feel weak just at the sight of him.

You reached out and wrapped your arms around him, your head pressed tightly against his chest. His heart beat steady and healthy in your ears. Yours felt like it would break out of your chest. It was hard to breath so suddenly, you could have just fallen over then.

But you felt his careful hands hold you steady against him, supporting you with the strength of his you remembered so well. He was always affectionate towards you, but being held like this felt few and far between. It almost felt like a dream.

“You’re alive.” Was all you could manage to breathe out, it was a shock, it was amazement that he was alive and well and there to be near you again. You wanted to cry, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. You felt happy, but sad too. Scared, tired, overwhelmed.

He felt that in you, and he gently lead you back to your bed to sit down, “Breathe.” He whispered in a soft command. You felt your throat twisting too hard to choke out anything. His hand stroked your upper arm, you did your best to focus on that feeling instead of the looming panic running through your insides.

He remained quiet, simply there, and waiting for the feelings that were hurting you to pass, as they always did. How he managed to stay so calm and collected was astounding to you. He had his moments of outburst, but when it really mattered, he seemed to be the master of the universe.

You took his hand from your arm and wrapped it both your shaking hands. You fingers felt for the small little nicks in his shell, tiny scratches that told you stories of his battles, something he held with pride. You remembered the close calls before, and how the two of you managed to fight tooth and nail through it all, just like now. Air found your lungs again.

“Are you okay?” Qymaen asked. You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of his question, at the pure love of seeing him back in control.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You leaned forward, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, feeling unmoving, cool metal under your touch. His eyes closed, he couldn’t feel you physically, but he wanted you as close as possible.

You pulled back, but only by a little, your hand moving down to his chest to feel for the familiar thump of his heart. Both of you remained quiet for awhile, savoring this moment of life.

“How’d you do it?” He asked.

Your smile went wider, his heart was strong, his breathing steady, without a sign of damage. It worked, everything worked out. “A lot of work.” Was all you said, and it seemed to be enough for him for now.

You raised yourself back off your bed once you could feel you feet again. “We should get the ship back on course again, they’ll probably be looking for us.” You remarked, watching him stand with you.

“It’s been handled.” He replied, vaguely. Though you didn’t doubt he’d been on top of everything since he woke up, he was never one to relax.

“Everything?” You asked, feeling sensations of hope deep inside your chest.

“Nearly.” Qymaen replied.

You reached out to touch him almost reflexively. You remembered weeks alone without him, and the loneliness that remained while you worked on his this past week. But those were only memories now, long since past.

“Well then, come on.” You took his hand and pulled him deeper into the ship. You’d love nothing more than wrap yourself around him and never part again. But there was work to be done before you could. And you didn’t mind it so long as he was beside you.


End file.
